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Date: 1744

"When I behold a genius bright and base, / Of towering talents, and terrestrial aims; / Methinks I see, as thrown from her high sphere, / The glorious fragments of a soul immortal, / With rubbish mix'd, and glittering in the dust."

"By toys entangled, or in guilt bemired, / [Ambition] turns a curse; it is our chain and scourge / In this dark dungeon, where confined we lie, / Close-grated by the sordid bars of sense; / All prospect of eternity shut out; / And, but for execution, ne'er set free."

"What wealth in Intellect, that sovereign power, / Which Sense and Fancy summons to the bar; / Interrogates, approves, or reprehends; / And from the mass those underlings import, / From their materials sifted, and refined, / And in Truth's balance accurately weigh'd, / Forms art and science, gove...

"A world, where Lust of Pleasure, Grandeur, Gold, / Three demons that divide its realms between them, / With strokes alternate buffet to and fro / Man's restless heart, their sport, their flying ball; / Till with the giddy circle sick and tired, / It pants for peace, and drops into despair."

"Such is the world Lorenzo's wisdom wooes, / And on its thorny pillow seeks repose; / A pillow which, like opiates ill-prepared, / Intoxicates, but not composes; fills / The visionary mind with gay chimeras, / All the wild trash of sleep, without the rest; / What unfeign'd travail, and what dream...